


Negotiations

by fandom_oracle



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Deuc’s original name is Oliver, Gerard taught Kate what she knows, M/M, i’m a horrible person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 05:58:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15113246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandom_oracle/pseuds/fandom_oracle
Summary: All the young wolf wanted was to negotiate on behalf of his pack; he gets a bit more than that.





	Negotiations

_Paris, January 9th, 1948_

Oliver didn’t exactly know what to expect, but he certainly didn’t expect _this_. The boy sitting in front of him, as they occupied a table in the _Deux Magots_ , wasn’t the image you’d initially have of an Argent hunter, polished and sweet, blonde hair reflecting the yellow light of any parisian café at night, cheeks slightly pink from the cold. He looked unthreatening, almost frail, even, but the young wolf knew better than that. They stood there, in a silence he thought awkward, albeit the other boy smiled contently.

“So...” the wolf thought it best to start he conversation soon, as he didn’t want to be with an Argent any longer than necessary, no matter how boyishly good-looking he was. “Do you know why I’m here?”

“Of course!” He replied, in a strangely cheerful tone. “You’re here to negotiate on the interests of Lady Northcott’s pack. Oliver Davies, is it not?”

“How do you...?”

“We have informants in London who keep us up to date with any new betas created” The matter-of-fact reply would’ve been as cold as the winter air, if not for the smile that followed it by the Argent. “And of course it would be you. The youngest beta. The one she considers most disposable. Responsible, perhaps, but not very kind of an alpha’s part. Now that I know who you are, I suppose it’s only fair to introduce myself. You can call me Gerard”

“And I want to make it clear that the answer is no” he spoke English like an American, only vague hints of his french nationality showing. “I’m afraid I have no authority in this matter; or any, may I add. The Argent Matriarch has decided to revoke the permission for non-french wolves to remain in our territory without a permit”

“But... but the war...” Oliver stumbled to find his words, wondering how a voice so kind could spill words that harsh. The worst of it all, Gerard seemed to genuinely feel sorry for his words.

“The war is over” The other boy replied quickly. “That’s how it must be”

The hunter reached on a pocket of his winter coat, making the wolf wary. He couldn’t outrun a bullet, but he doubted Argent would shoot him in a public place. Thankfully, he just took a piece of paper and handed it to him.

“These are our terms. I trust you’ll hand them over to Lady Northcott, won’t you?” The question was followed by the blink of a single of his brown eyes, whose meaning the young beta could not discern.

He replied with a head nod. There was nothing more for him to say.

* * *

 

_Marseille, February 1st, 1948_

As the cold had begun to give away, Oliver had donned himself with a simpler attire, and, as he could see, Gerard had done the same. Not just the time of the year, but the location, further south, allowed for them to be more comfortable. Sadly, their meeting place was far less enchanting than the previous one. A large crowd of people, seemingly appreciating the art of what he could only assume was a crossdresser on stage, filled the air with a too much background noise, and himself, being used to open fields in the English countryside, could barely handle it. And, if anything, the performance made him more uncomfortable; flustered, even.

“So?” Asked the older boy, looking over at him with analytical eyes and a pretty smirk. “Am I not entitled to a response?”

“She wants Normandy” He answered, desperate to stay focused on business. The last things he needed was to get the pack in trouble with the Argents for his... inclinations. “We’ll agree to follow your orders, to clear every wolf in our pack from France, if we get to remain free in Normandy. She’ve been active there nine years, from the very beginning of the war”

“It’s funny, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“I don’t make the calls here; why should we let you stay there?” Gerard inquired, but softly, in a tone that didn’t feel accusatory. “For all we know, we might start another wolf epidemic. Why can’t you stay on your side of the Manche?”

The wolf might’ve thought of a better response, but right now he was trying his hardest not to look at what he could only describe as sexual debauchery going on in the meeting place, and trying not to feel tempted in any way.

“Do you want to go a place that’s more silent?” The hunter asked so kindly that one wouldn’t think they were mortal enemies.

They got out, and walked in silence through the quiet streets, as they lied in the dead of night, listening only to the sound of their feet hitting the pavement. For Oliver it might’ve been awkward, but Gerard showed no signs of it, letting his hand casually brush against the wolf’s, making his face reddish in a way that made the younger one happy the street lights were dim and the change in tone wouldn’t be visible.

Eventually the pair arrived at the gates of what seemed like a simple apartment building, probably one of the many Argent properties throughout Europe; probably nothing important, though, or Gerard wouldn’t have taken him there. As they climbed the stairs, the hunter turned to him.

“You know I chose that place, don’t you?” Gerard looked at him intently. Oliver didn’t know what to reply. He allowed himself to wonder if it meant what he wanted it to, but it clearly didn’t. It couldn’t. “You understand what I’m trying to say, don’t you?”

He didn’t reply.

The other boy placed his hand on his arm, as he closed the space between them enough for their faces to almost tough. The beta’s first instinct was to run; the second one, to slash the Argent’s face with his claws. He calmed down soon and, saying hell to the consequences, placed his lips on the other boy’s.

The first kiss was chaste. The kind that two kids give to each other when they’re pretending to date to the entertainment of their older relatives. The second one was wild, as the british boy allowed his wolf instincts to take over, barely managing not to gnaw Gerard’s lips. The animal instinct was to throw the frenchman on the wall and take him, but he managed to regain control, understanding that anything he did to Gerard could cause problems for his pack. As he calmed down, his partner took things over.

The third one was slow paced, with Gerard placing his hands on the hair on the back of the wolf’s neck, holding him in place. The hunter set the pace, playing a torturous game with his prey. He pulled away, placing his hands on Oliver’s face.

“Good boy, aren’t you?”


End file.
